


A Goddess

by themantlingdark



Series: Gemini [5]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:16:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themantlingdark/pseuds/themantlingdark
Summary: please don't comment or repost.





	A Goddess

Loki knows better than to think he knows what to expect with this pregnancy.

It's the morning after. Thor is already up and having breakfast with the boys. Loki is still on his back in bed, playing with his seidr. It's stronger again. Stronger even than it was with the twins.

A goddess, he thinks, and grins to himself.

His stomach feels angry. He's been eating ice chips all morning, certain he'll vomit if he tries anything else.

He has no intention of falling asleep, but he does so nonetheless.

When he wakes, Thor is staring at him, worried.

“What happened?” Loki asks.

“You've been asleep for a week.”

“What?”

“I had Mother and Halldis here to see you halfway through the first day when I couldn't wake you. They said to leave you alone.”

Loki raises his eyebrows and gapes a bit. It feels like he only slept an hour. He's refreshed and has no memory of any dreams.

“Did I scare them?” Loki asks, and he means the twins.

“At first,” Thor answers. “They thought you wouldn't wake up. But Mother told them you merely needed rest and they had to take care of you by being good and quiet. And then they just wanted to know if they were still allowed to snuggle you and she said yes, and they were fine.”

Loki smiles, but he still feels guilty for having frightened his sons.

“Where are they?”

“With Father at the barns, playing with the lambs.”

Loki nods.

“They wouldn't let me sleep alone with you,” Thor says. “I told them I could watch you at night, but they gave me the dirtiest looks and said they needed to keep you safe.”

Loki laughs for a solid minute.

“They're onto you, brother,” Loki says, when he settles. “They know you'd only molest me.”

“Pffff! Hypocrisy,” Thor huffs. “They're the ones you need to worry about. They put all your hair in knots - wouldn't keep their hands out of it. Took turns kissing you for hours on end. I caught Sindri with your little gold finger in his mouth so many times I threatened to take it away. And they were furious when I wouldn't flip you over onto your belly for them so they could rub your back and pat your bottom.”

Beneath the giggling, Loki is deeply touched by Thor's story. To see the way the boys love him through another set of eyes – and at a time when they had no hope of their affections being observed or returned.

Stigr and Sindri are blatantly in love with Thor. Loki has to try very hard not to laugh at them as they blush and smile at his husband. And he can't blame them. He knows exactly how they feel.

They want Thor's approval. Want him to take them on adventures. Want to impress him. They show him how far they can leap, how fast they can run, and how brightly they can cast lights of seidr.

They see the way Loki touches Thor and they try to mimic it - cupping his cheeks, rubbing their noses against his, and pressing careful kisses that last far too long – because Loki's kisses seem to go on forever - to Thor's lips.

Thor doesn't have to try to resist laughter throughout these displays because he's usually on the verge of tears, moved almost beyond bearing by the sweetness of his boys. He holds still for their shy attempts at romance and feels their tiny exhalations against his upper lip - short bursts of breath from small lungs. And he stares at their eyelashes, because they've always got their eyes closed just like Loki would. And he remembers kissing his mother like this when he was their age, and he's relieved – if he had failed to give her these absurd little outpourings of affection he'd hate himself for his negligence now.

Their love for Loki tends to be a slightly more subtle thing, but woven tightly into their bones.

Loki is quiet and comfort and warmth and softness to them.

When they are tired or fearful, they seek his easy silence.

They're soothed by the scent of him, smoother somehow than Thor smells. More delicate. More like them.

They are possessive with his body. When they climb into their parents' bed in the morning – via the makeshift staircase of stacked books they always build – they peel Thor off of Loki and claim Loki for their own, nudging him onto his back and tucking themselves under his arms.

When they all pile into the bath in the evening they play with Thor until they're puckered and pink, but they only ever want Loki to wash them; his hands are softer and possessed of more grace.

Some days they follow him through their home like chicks under a hen. Sometimes they all lie in bed while Loki shows them enchanting visions with his magic, or teaches them simple spells of healing and protection.

Loki loves it. He belongs to them and they to him.

And they mimic Thor in their treatment of Loki. They try to be gallant and pull out his chair for him, and he sits in it, even if he hadn't any intention of doing so before. They stand beside him on the sofa to pet his hair, kiss his forehead, and say, “I love you so.” And they bring him things that they think he'll like, or that remind them of him: a flower the color of his lips, a stone as black and shiny as his hair, the coil of a grapevine like his curls, a treat from the kitchens from Sindri, or the whistled song of a bird from Stigr.

Thor and Loki drift in their own heads until Loki's stomach growls.

“I'm famished,” Loki sighs.

They head to the palace kitchens and Thor watches Loki closely to see what he's craving this time, making mental notes.

Toasted nuts. Piles of them. Especially pecans.

Fresh fruit. Thank the Norns.

Roasted vegetables. Thank them again.

An alarming helping of beef tenderloin, very rare.

Generously buttered bread... or stingily breaded butter.

Three dishes of custard. Typical.

This is far better than what Loki ate for the first week of his last pregnancy... although, technically, Loki didn't eat anything for the first week of this pregnancy, having slept through it.

Thor frowns. But Loki looks good - wide awake and ravenous – so Thor's smile soon returns.

If they were both Aesir, Thor would feel far more confident in his ability to gauge Loki's health and to care for it, but because they're from different realms and there are few now living who've seen the likes of them, Thor and Loki both defer to Frigga, Halldis, Odin, and Farbauti whenever they feel uncertain.

Loki eats as much as he ate when he was carrying two babies.

It takes Thor a few weeks to notice it. It had been so familiar from his fullness with the twins that Thor took it as normal. When Thor didrealize it, he didn't say anything. He's glad Loki is listening to his body, and he trusts that it's telling his brother what he needs to know. Halldis is always pleased with Loki's progress and Frigga says he's doing well.

Loki is much more energetic this time. The extra seidr coursing though him begs to be expended, so he gads about the realms, mending things that are long broken, or are about to break. He amuses his children – and all of Asgard – with vast displays of light and fanciful imagery spread out over the sky. He helps Farbauti to further reinforce his city. He doesn't even have to tell his dam he's pregnant; Farbauti takes one look at him and somehow knows.

Loki has to enjoy this sociable wanderlust while it lasts, for in five months he'll be too uneasy for travel and company.

By the end of the first month, Loki can't get his leggings on. And it's not his belly that's getting in the way: the tops of his thighs are getting thicker.

A week later he rips the seams of his shirt. His upper arms are filling out. He takes to wearing tunics stolen from Thor.

His breasts arrive at the end of the second month. His nipples had ached for weeks beforehand and he knew it was coming – he saw the pattern.

His belly has been steadily growing as well, far too fast to be the baby showing. His waist is the same, but from his navel to his pubis there are now soft curves that turn into rolls whenever he sits down or bends over.

In the middle of the third month he catches Thor staring at his ass, which isn't anything unusual in itself, but the expression on Thor's face is a new one. He looks... awed.

Loki knows his backside is well on its way to becoming ridiculous. He's forever bumping it into tables and chairs... and Thor.

On a quiet evening, just after the twins have gone to bed, Thor hears a vibrating clang and looks up from his book to find that Loki has knocked over a candelabra with his bottom and is now staring down at it with a twist to his brow.

Thor gets up and hurries over before this turns into tears or screaming. Or both.

“What's the matter?” Thor murmurs, pulling his sulky brother into a hug and casting a spell to clean up the splattered wax.

“Farbauti said he's never seen a pregnancy like this before,” Loki sighs, and Thor laughs.

“Well I'm not surprised.”

“Why not?” Loki pouts.

“The Jotnar don't exactly have daughters, do they?” Thor says, reaching to stroke the base of Loki's belly. “This isn't what your body was expecting. Svala is merely making herself at home - making you more like her. There's no harm, love.”

Loki's eyes go wide at this, and he has to remind himself again: Fertility god. Knows his business.

The twins love this new softness in their father. It makes them think of their grandmother. They wrap themselves in Loki's arms and rest their cheeks on his breasts. Or press their ears to the soft flesh of his belly and listen to his intestines gurgling.

The changes come gradually and take a familiar form, so the boys think nothing of it. It eases Loki's mind.

Stigr and Sindri are like Thor and tend to rise early. Unlike Thor, they like to go to bed early as well. So, after their bath each night, the kings put their sons to bed and have a few hours to themselves. They cast wards to keep the children from hearing them, but it's largely unnecessary: they're both quiet in the dark. Loki is warm and pliant from bathing, and the evening always turns Thor a bit wistful - reminding him of the thousands of nights he and Loki needlessly went to bed alone.

They enjoy the things they know won't last: being able to press their breasts together before the baby gets too big between them; having Loki on top, riding Thor's cock – or his face - before his hips give out; having Thor's ass in the air while Loki slams into him from behind.

Thor loves to sink into Loki's new body. To be enveloped by soft flesh. To feel Loki's breasts spread and flatten against his chest as Loki's belly shapes to his own. To reach down, grab the back of the leg that's wrapped around his waist, and follow it to the ample curve of a buttock.

The way Loki's skin gathers between Thor's fingers feels like wealth. Like sustenance – like kneading dough for bread. And when Thor crawls down Loki's body to lick seed from the lush folds of his cunt, Loki traps Thor's head there between the fullness of his thighs and feels Thor's pleasure buzzing through his bones as Thor hums.

But it isn't enough.

They miss their wild mornings together, when they were both wide awake and the light let them see every inch of each other.

So they forgo their late-night lovemaking and rise two hours early the next day, before the sun is even up. Loki casts lots of lights over their bed and then he and Thor kiss like lovestruck youths while Thor rubs his cock over the lips of Loki's quim and Loki pants and arches and tries to tempt him inside. Thor resists, wanting to tease his brother a moment. Only a moment; he told Loki they'd go six times, which works out to twenty minutes per coupling, on average. Thor knows this first one can be faster and then he can make the last round a long one. He can't wait.

And then they hear the thud of books hitting the floor at their bedside as their sons build their staircase.

Thor makes a sound like he's just been slapped and buries his face in Loki's neck. Loki can feel Thor shaking his head – and shaking in general – and groaning no and why and how.

And then Loki can hear a storm outside, close at hand.

“What do we do?” Thor asks.

“We need to remain like this a moment,” Loki answers. “We're both hard and I'm all wet.”

Loki removes the wards he placed on their voices and they lie there in a tense heap while they watch the boys climb up onto the bed.

“Papa? Is Mama hurting you?” Stigr asks, frowning when he sees his parents.

“No, darling,” Loki sighs. “He's not as heavy as he looks. What brought you out of bed so early? It's two hours before you normally wake.”

“I can smell you're awake,” Stigr says, and Thor and Loki look at each other and widen their eyes.

The twins crawl closer and stare at Thor expectantly. When he doesn't move, they smile at him as though he's some sort of simpleton.

“Mama, you have to get up,” Sindri explains slowly, and Thor huffs a tired little laugh.

“No,” Loki says gently, winding his arms more tightly around Thor. “I need him where he is. You can curl up at my shoulders, but Mama stays right here until I say he may go.”

Thor is grateful Loki fielded this. He knows that if he had told the boys he wasn't moving, they'd be cross with him, which he hates, but they're usually quite amenable to seeing that Loki gets his way, and that holds true here.

Sindri crawls across Thor's back to take Loki's left side while Stigr takes his right. It's so early the boys are still exhausted and soon fall asleep. When they wake, their parents are on either side of them, holding them close.

Loki finally builds a proper bedroom for himself and Thor. It grants them an extra layer of privacy, for the first thing they teach the twins is that they must knock. But that also means that Thor and Loki must answer, and they can't exactly leave their sons unsupervised, so they still have to cut their lovemaking short every morning.

Frustration seems to be the story of their lives at the moment. Loki's libido is insatiable with his hormones, and there's nothing more irresistible to a fertility god than the rococo curves of a pregnant form, so Thor can think of little more than sex all day.

Loki is trying to behave himself. He had allowed his appetites to get the better of him when they had initially increased, teasing Thor by flaunting his body - pressing his breasts together so the cleft between them crept up out of the neckline of his tunic, bending over slowly with his backside pointed at his brother, and eating breakfast very suggestively. But the twins had grown curious – and a bit envious – of the attention their parents were paying each other, and came over to investigate.

The expression on Thor's face was one Loki discovered he didn't ever want to see again. He could read the guilt in it. Thor finds it heartbreaking to be pulled between Loki and their sons - or to pull Loki from their sons. Especially since it's no one's fault: there is no competition, merely too much need.

It's been stormy for well over a week when Odin arrives, unannounced, intending to ask Thor What, exactly, is the matter with you?

He finds Thor in the bedroom.

Loki is passed out in bed - still a late riser when he can help it - a landscape of curves. And Thor is stealing desperate glances at his brother as he builds castles of wooden blocks on the floor with the twins.

“Ah,” Odin says, understanding at once.

Odin takes the twins to meet a friend of his who is a potter, and they play with porcelain all day long.

The moment they've left, Thor is undressing and climbing into bed. He spoons up behind his brother and presses all his firm front to Loki's soft back. Wraps his arm around Loki's waist and gently squeezes the fleshy swell of his belly. Nibbles his neck and looks across a pale cheek, watching as Loki slowly stirs.

“Are they napping?” Loki murmurs.

“Father took them.”

Loki rouses very rapidly at these words and Thor finds himself flat on his back as Loki straddles him.

“How long do we have?” Loki asks.

“I suspect we have all day. He seemed to see the problem quite quickly.”

Odin's one and only eye doesn't miss much these days, and Loki is grateful for it.

Thor lets himself stare up at the formidable figure of his brother.

Still broad-shouldered and with that axe-blade of a jawline. But the former hollows under his cheekbones have something of apples to them now – round and pink. And when Loki tips his head down there's the hint of a double-chin. His breasts are high and full and Thor knows they're only going to get bigger. He can't wait for it. And the jumble of curves at the bottom of Loki's stomach is so delectable Thor can't keep his mouth off of it in the evenings. He can't see Loki's behind, so he lets his fingers follow its curves, kneading the flesh and squeezing it, seeing Loki's lashes flutter at the touch.

Thor's belly feels wet where his brother is sitting on it. He runs the pad of his thumb down through the folds of Loki's quim and it comes away sticky, a thread of fluid stretching between their bodies. Loki's cock bobs appreciatively when Thor licks the slick from his own skin.

“You're already soaking,” Thor purrs.

“All the time,” Loki breathes. “I'm like this all the time now.”

Thor swears and urges Loki's hips up and back until the head of his cock is against the mouth of Loki's cunt and Loki slides down onto it as slowly as possible, letting himself feel every thick inch of Thor's gorgeous prick.

Loki's body is filling out on the inside, too, so Thor feels even bigger to Loki, and Loki feels even tighter to Thor.

It's marvelous.

Loki bounces slowly at first, building speed as he gets closer. He strokes his own cock while Thor's hands flow over the fullness of his thighs, the folds of his stomach, and around again to the ripe swell of his backside, palming the cheeks and rubbing them in wide circles, spreading them far enough apart that Loki's anus can feel the stretch.

Loki's semen sprays so far it gets on Thor's face, and the patter of the hot little drops has Thor spilling up into Loki's cunt in pulses that tickle wonderfully.

The brothers sit, grinning and gasping, soaked in sweat and sex.

“I wager we have at least six hours before they're back,” Thor pants. “Maybe nine.”

Loki grins and swirls his hips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please don't comment or repost.


End file.
